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Thaddeus Cohen arrived forty minutes later. William heard him out in attentive silence.

When Cohen had finished his revelation, William said, 'Your father would never have approved of such underhand methods!

'Neither would yours,' replied Thaddeus Cohen, 'but they didn't have to deal with the likes of Abel Rosnovski.'

'What makes you think your plan will work?'

'Look at the Bernard Goldfine and Sherman Adams case, only one thousand six hundred and forty-two dollars involved in hotel bills and a vicuna coat, but it sure embarrassed the hell out of the President when Adams was accused of preferred treatment because he was a Presidential assistant. We know Mr. Rosnovski is aiming a lot higher than that. It should, therefore, be easier to bring him down.'

'Game, set and match. How much is it going to cost me?'

'Twenty-five thousand at the outside, but I may be able to pull the whole deal off for less.'

'How can you be sure that Rosnovski doesn't realise that I am personally involved?'

'I'd use a third person who won't even know your name to act as an intermediary!

'And if you pull it off, what would you recommend we do then?'

'You send all the details to Senator John Kennedy's office, and I guarantee that will finish off Abel Rosnovski's ambicious plans once and for all because the moment his credibility has been shattered he will be a spent force and find it quite impossible to invoke Article Seven of the bank's by-laws -even if he did get hold of eight per cent of Lester's.'

'Maybe - if Kennedy becomes the President,' said William. 'But what happens if Nixon wins the election? He's way ahead in the opinion polls and I'd certainly back his chances against Kennedy. Can you really imagine that America would ever send a Roman Catholic to the White House?

I caiet, but then on the other hand I admit that an investment of twenty-five thousand is small enough if there's better than an outside chance the move will finish Abel Rosnovski off once and for all and leave me secure at the bank.'

'If Kennedy becomes President...'

William opened the drawer of his -desk, took out a large cheque book marked 'private account' and wrote out the figure& Two, five, zero, zero, zero.

38

Abel's prediction that Kennedy's opening of the Baron would hit every front page did not turn out to be wholly accurate. Although the candidate did indeed open the hotel, he had to appear at dozens of other events in Los Angeles that day and face Nixon for a televised debate the following evening. Nevertheless, the opening of the newest Baron gained fairly wide coverage in the national press, and Vincent Hogan assured Abel privately that Kennedy had not forgotten the other little matter. Florentyna's shop was only a few hundred yards away, but father and daughter never did meet.

After the Illinois returns came in, and John F. Kennedy looked certain to be the thirty-fifth President of the United States, Abel drank Mayor Daley's health and celebrated at the Democratic National Headquarters on Times Square. He did not return home to his bed until nearly five the next morning.

'Hell, I have a lot to celebrate,' he told George. 'I'm going to be the next . . .' He fell asleep before he finished the sentence. George smiled and put him to bed.

William watched the results of the election in the peace of his study on East Sixty-eighth Street. After the Illinois returns which were not confirmed until ten o'clock the next morning (William never had trusted Mayor Daley), Walter Cronkite declared it was all over bar the shouting, and William picked up his phone and dialled Thaddeus Cohen's home number.

All he said was, 'The twenty-five thousand dollars has turned out to be a wise investment, Thaddeus. Now let us be sure that there is no honeymoon period for Mr. Rosnovski. But don't do anything until he makes his trip to Turkey.' William placed the phone back on the hook and went to bed. He was disappointed that Richard Nixon had failed to beat Kennedy and that his distant cousin Henry Cabot Lodge would not be the Vice-President but it is an ill wind. . .

When Abel received his invitation to be a guest at one of President Kennedy's inauguration balls in Washington, D.C., there was only one person he wanted to share the honour with. He talked the idea over with George and had to agree that Florentyna would never be willing to accompany him unless she was convinced that the feud with Richard's father could be finally resolved. So he knew he would have to go alone.

In order to be in Washington to attend the celebrations, Abel had had to postpone his latest trip to Europe and the Middle East for a few days.

He could not afford to miss the inauguration, whereas he could always put back the date for the opening of the Istanbul Baron.

Abel had a new, rather conservative dark blue suit made specially for the occasion, and took over the Presidential Suite at the Washington Baron for the day of the inauguration. He enjoyed watching the vital young President deliver his inaugural speech, full of hope and promise for the future.

'A new generation of Americans, born in this century' -Abel only just qualified -'tempered by war' - Abel certainly qualified - 'disciplined by a hard and bitter peace' - Abel made it again. 'Ask not what your country can do for you. Ask what you can do for your country!

The crowd rose to a man and everyone ignored the snow that had failed to dampen the impact of John F. Kennedy's brilliant oratory.

Abel returned to the Washington Baron exhilarated. He showered before changing for dinner into white tie and tails, also made especially for the occasion. When he studied his ample frame in the mirror, Abel had to admit to himself that he was not the last word in sartorial elegance. His tailor had done the best he could in the circumstances and did not complain that he had had to make three new and ever larger evening suits for Abel in the past three years. Florentyna would have chastised him for those unnecessary inches, as she used to call them, and for her he would have done something about it. Why did his thoughts always return to Florentyna? He checked his medals. First The Polish Veterans' Medal, next the decorations for his service in the desert and in Europe, and then his cutlery medals, as Abel called them, for distinguished service with knives and forks.

In all, seven inaugural balls were held in Washington that evening, and Abel's invitation directed him to the D.C. Armoury. He was placed at a table of Polish Democrats from New York and Chicago. They had a lot to celebrate. Edmund Muskie was in the Senate and terf more Polish Democrats had been elected to Congress. No one mentioned the two newly elected Polish Republicans. Abel spent a happy evening with two old friends, who along with him were founding members of the Polish-American Congress. They both asked after Florentyna.

The dinner was interrupted by the entrance of John F. Kennedy and his beautiful wife, Jacqueline. They stayed about fifteen minutes, chatted with a few carefully selected people and then moved on. Although Abel didn't actually speak to the President, despite leaving his table and placing himself strategically in his path, he did manage to have a word with Vincent Hogan as he was leaving with the Kennedy entourage.

'What. Rosnovski, what a fortuitous meeting!

Abel would like to have explained to the boy that with him nothing was fortuitous, but now was neither the time nor the place. Hogan took Abel's arm and guided him quickly behind a large marble pillar.

'I can't say too much at the moment, Mr. Rosnovski, as I must stick with the President, but I think you can expect a call from us in the near future. Naturally, the President has rather a lot of appointments to deal with at the moment.'

'Naturally,' said Abel.

'But I am hoping,' continued Vincent Hogan, 'that in your case everything will be confirmed by late March or early April. May I be the first to offer my congratulations, Mr. Rosnovski? I am confident you will serve the President well.'

Abel watched Vincent Hogan literally run off to be sure he caught up with the Kennedy party, who were already climbing into a fleet of open-doored limousines.

'You look pleased with yourself,' said one of his Polish friends as Abel returned to his table and sat down to attack a tough steak, which would not have been allowed inside a Baron. 'Did Kennedy invite you to be his new Secretary of State?'

They all laughed.

'Not yet,' said Abel. 'But he did tell me the accommodation in the White House was not in the same class as the Baron.'

Abel flew back to New York the next morning after first visiting the Polish Chapel of Our Lady of Czestochowa in the National Shrine. It made him think of both Florentynas. Washington National airport was chaos and Abel eventually arrived at the New York Baron three hours later than planned.

George joined him for dinner, and knew that all had gone well when Abel ordered a magnum of Dom Perignon.

'Tonight we celebrate,' said Abel. 'I saw Hogan at the ball and my appointment will be confirmed in the next few weeks. The official announcement will be made soon after I return from the Middle East.'

'Congratulations, Abel. I know of no one who deserves the honour more!

'Thank you, George. I can assure you that your reward will not be in heaven, because when it's all official, I'm going to appoint you acting president of the Baron Group in my absence!

George drank another glass of champagne. They were already halfway through the bottle.

'How long do you think you'll be away this time, Abel?'

'Only three weeks. I want to check that those Arabs aren't robbing me blind and then go on to Turkey to open the Istanbul Baron. I think I'll take in London and Paris on the way.'

George poured some more champagne.

Abel had to spend -three more days in London than he had originally anticipated, trying to sort out the hotel's problems, with a manager who kept blaming everything on the British unions. The London Baron had turned out to be one of Abel's few failures, although he never could put his finger on why the hotel continually lost money. He would have considered closing it, but the Baron Group had to have a presence in England's capital city, so once again he fired the manager and made a new appointment.

Paris presented a striking contrast. The hotel was one of his most successful in Europe, and he'd once admitted to Florentyna, as reluctantly as a parent admits to having a favourite child, that the Paris Baron was his favourite hotel. Abel found everything on the Boulevard Raspail well organised and spent only two days in Paris before flying on to the Middle East.

Abel now had sites in five of the Persian Gulf States, but only the Riyadh Baron had actually started construction. If he'd been a younger man, Abel would have stayed in the Middle East for a couple of years himself and sorted the Arabs out. But he couldn't abide the sand, the heat, and never being certain when he could order a whisky. He thought he must be getting older, because he couldn't stand the natives either. He left them to one of his young assistant vice-presidents, who had been told that he would only be allowed to return and manage the infidels in America once Abel was sure he had proved a succm with the holy and blessed ones from the Middle East.

He left the poor assistant vice-president in the richest private hell in the world and flew on to Turkey.

Abel had visited Turkey several times during the past few years to watch the progress of the Istanbul Baron. For Abel, there would always be something special about Constantinople, as he remembered the city. He was looking forward to opening a Baron in the country he had left to start a new life in America.

Vkfle he was unpacking his suitcase in yet another Presidential Suite, Abel found fifteen invitations awaiting his reply. There were always several invitations about the time of a hotel opening; a galaxy of freeloaders who wanted to be invited to any opening night party appeared on the scene as if by magic. On this occasion, however, two of the dinner invitations came as an agreeable surprise to Abel from men who certainly could not be classified as freeloaders: namely the ambassadors of America and Britain. The invitation to the old British embassy was particularly irresistible as he had not been inside the building for nearly forty years.

That evening, Abel dined as the guest of Sir Bernard Burrows, Her Majesty's Ambassador to Turkey. To his surprise he found that he had been placed at the right of the ambassador's wife, a privilege Abel had never been afforded in any other embassy in the past. When the dinner was over, he observed the quaint English tradition of the ladies leaving the room while the gentlemen sat alone to smoke cigars and drink port or brandy.

Abel was invited to join the American ambassador, Fletcher Warren, for port in Sir Bernard's study. Sir Bernard was taking the American ambassador to task for allowing him to have the Chicago Baron to dinner before he had.

'The British have always been a presumptuous race,' said the American ambassador, lighting a large Cuban cigar.

'I'll say one thing for the Americans.' said Sir Bernard. 'They don't know when they're fairly beaten.'

Abel listened to the two diplomats' banter, wondering why he had been included in such a private gathering. Sir Bernard offered Abel some vintage port, and the American ambassador raised his glass.

'To Abel Rosnovski,'he said.

Sir Bernard also raised his glass. 'I understand that congratulations are in order,' he said.

Abel reddened and looked hastily towards Fletcher Warren, hoping he would help him out.

'Oh, have I let the cat out of the bag, Fletcher?' said Sir Bernard, turning to the American ambassador. 'You told me the appointment was common knowledge, old chap.'

'Fairly common,' said Fletcher Warren. 'Not that the British could ever keep a secret for very long!

'Is that why your lot took such a devil of a time to discover we were at war with Germany?' replied Sir Bernard.

'And then moved in to make sure of the victory?'

'And the glory,' said Sir Bernard.

The American ambassador laughed. 'I'm told the official announcement will be made in the next few days.'

Both men looked at Abel, who remained silent.